


Heathaze

by duesternis



Series: held by you [3]
Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Body Worship, Established Relationship, Fix-It, Fluff and Smut, Intercrural Sex, Kissing, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, i have a thing for victorian folks and intercrural....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:15:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25057558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duesternis/pseuds/duesternis
Summary: Henry swallowed, prick swelling slowly against his inseam. He had woken from his nap in the sitting room with heat pooling in his belly and an insistent need at the base of his spine.Harry shrugged out of his jacket now, shirt wet with sweat over his back, waistcoat sticking to it.
Relationships: Henry Collins/Harry D. S. Goodsir
Series: held by you [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1800478
Comments: 11
Kudos: 38





	Heathaze

Harry was stood at his study desk, bent over a notebook, jotting down notes from his last patient appointment.  
Henry loitered in the doorway, hands hanging loosely by his sides. His shirt was open at the collar, sweat pooling in the hollow of his throat.  
It was unbearably hot today, summer holding Edinburgh in its sweltering claw.  
Carefully Harry put his pen aside and closed the notebook, sliding it into the small shelf above his desk.  
Then he wiped sweat from the back of his neck with his handkerchief, folded a neat square again and pocketed it.

Henry swallowed, prick swelling slowly against his inseam. He had woken from his nap in the sitting room with heat pooling in his belly and an insistent need at the base of his spine.  
Harry shrugged out of his jacket now, shirt wet with sweat over his back, waistcoat sticking to it.

Henry stepped into the room, creaking floorboards alerting Harry. He turned and smiled absentmindedly.  
"Henry, dear man. Woken up I see? Should I ring Clara for refreshments? It’s quite warm today."  
His cravat was already loosened, mussed from a finger tugging at it.  
Henry licked his lips and shook his head, hair flying into his eyes. He tossed it back with a flick of his hand.  
"I’m not thirsty, Harry."

Harry frowned, stepped away from his desk and reached for Henry, who came easily, steps heavy and prick rubbing against his smalls insistently.  
"You look flushed, are you hot?"  
Henry looked at the burning blue sky through the window, sun a flirring flare in the center.  
"Everything’s hot."  
He took Harry’s wrists into his hands, feeling the heat of his skin, the tremble of his pulse against Henry’s fingertips.  
"I’m burning."

Harry freed one of his hands and touched Henry’s sweaty forehead, brushing his thick hair aside to feel his temperature.  
"You’re not unreasonably warm. But still, you should drink something. I only have water here."  
Henry nodded and Harry had him sit down on the small settee by the window, sun spilling over his broad shoulders.  
Harry brought him a glass of water with a smile, eyes warm and kind. His spectacles had been put to rest by the water jug and Henry gazed at his dear face.  
Drank deeply and licked his lips. Harry’s eyes followed the motion, throat working visibly under his mussed cravat.  
"Better?"  
Henry nodded and took Harry’s hand, pressed a kiss to his knuckles, the back of it. The wrist, bared by a slide of Henry’s thumb under the cuff of Harry’s shirt.  
"Much better."

Harry smiled, cheeks a warm red now. He bent and kissed Henry, heedless of the open door.  
Henry surged, hand grabbing Harry’s forearm and deepening the kiss.  
Their mouths slotted together with practised ease and Henry tasted a hint of Harry’s thooth powder in his mouth.  
Harry took hold of Henry’s shoulders and stepped between his parted legs.  
Henry had to tilt his head back to keep their lips touching and he groaned low in his throat.  
Harry’s hand slid into his hair, cupping the back of his head. Henry’s prick twitched inside his trousers and he shifted forward, seeking the press of another body.

Wetly Harry broke the kiss, thumb stroking the base of Henry’s skull.  
"Is this what brought you here?"  
Henry nodded, words quite lost to him.  
Harry smiled, an indulgent glint in his eyes. It sparked Henry’s lust further.  
"Whatever did you dream, Mr Collins? I must know, if you want me to help you, understand."  
"Doctor," croaked Henry, throat working around a dry swallow.

Harry hummed, both hands slid into Henry’s hair now, fingers tangling in the curls. They were dry, needed a tender wash and maybe a trim.  
But it was so handsome, how the fringe fell into Henry’s dark eyes, how it framed his manly face.  
He hardly looked admissible to any sort of Gentlemen’s Club, barely presentable enough for a sailor’s tavern, but Harry loved it so.  
And Henry so rarely went out either way, that it simply didn’t matter.

"You," another croak and Harry kissed Henry’s temple.  
"Me? You dreamt of me, dear man?"  
It sent a tingle down his spine, to know Henry thought of him, even when he slept. That it made him want Harry, when he thought of him.  
Harry’s prick swelled inside his trousers and he glanced down, into the shadow of Henry’s parted legs, thrilled to find tented fabric there.  
Henry nodded desperately, hands pulling at Harry’s waistcoat, undoing the buttons with the deft strength of a sailor.  
That hands so broad could be so nimble was always a considerable thing for Harry.  
Something that made him curl his toes in his shoes, hands gently fisting Henry’s hair, only to see his long lashes flutter over his gleaming eyes.

Harry kissed Henry’s open mouth again, swallowing the guttural groan and the moan high on its heels.  
There was the shifting, rustling of cloth and Harry had to let go of Henry to stop him from ripping the seams on his waistcoat.  
He laid the simple garment over the arm of the settee and stroked through Henry’s stately muttonchops with spread fingers.   
"You need to take better care of your hair, Henry. It’s dry."  
Henry reached up with a vague sound, fingers settling into Harry’s own curls. Tighter and neater than Henry’s, soft with oil.  
"Help me."  
"I shall, my dear man, I shall. Tomorrow morning, we’ll oil you and brush you. You’ll be so handsome. So sleek and soft."

Henry’s mouth fell open and Harry eyed the spread of his legs. There was a dark patch at the front of Henry’s trousers.  
Lord, he must be in pain, leaking like that through his smalls and trousers.  
Harry slipped out of his braces and Henry followed suit with burning eyes, hands shaky with excitement.  
"Slow, my dear, be mindful of yourself."  
Harry rubbed his thumb into the meat, the muscle, of Henry’s shoulder, feeling it jump under his touch. The shirt was warm with sweat and Harry bent, inhaling the musk of Henry from the crook of his neck.  
Henry turned his head, mouth rubbing wetly over the shell of Harry’s ear.  
They both shivered.

"Please," Henry moaned, hands shaking over the buttons of Harry’s trousers.  
"Go ahead."  
Harry kissed the thrumming pulse at the side of Henry’s neck and closed his eyes. Concentrated on the press and slide of buttons, the momentary relief of slackening pressure along his erect prick.  
Then the surge of frustration when he wasn’t cupped or held or fondled.  
Henry’s warm hands pushed his trousers down, letting them fall to Harry’s ankles. His smalls were easily pulled down too.

Harry gasped, eyes firmly closed along the heat of Henry’s shoulder. The sweltering air in the room was still cooler than the heated confines of clothes and his prick twitched, a drop of liquid budding from the tip.  
Henry’s broad thumb gathered it and Harry’s eyes flew open, his head snapped up and he just saw Henry lapping the drop from his thumb.  
Immediately another drop spilled and Harry breathed a curse.  
Henry smiled, hair fallen into his face again, rakish.

Harry straightened, shirt tails brushing over his erection and Henry shimmied back on the settee, kicking off his trousers and smalls with the hurried ease of a man used to quick fumbles.  
At least he took off his pants nowadays.  
Not that Harry always minded the chafing of wool against his naked legs, but he did much prefer the furred heat of Henry’s strong thighs.  
Harry stepped out of his shoes, trousers slipping off his ankles when he followed Henry up on the sette.  
Henry pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the broad, furred chest, dusky pink nipples beaded tightly and Harry’s mouth watered.  
He carded his hands through the wiry hair, mouth closing over one of the nipples and Henry’s hips bucked.  
A hot smear of liquid dragged over Harry’s flank and he groaned around the nub between his teeth.

Henry’s hands clawed at Harry’s shoulders, pulling at his shirt and cravat, finally tugging it loose and sliding the warmed silk away from Harry’s throat. Henry’s hand immediately slipped into the back of Harry’s collar, warm palm a brand between his shoulder blades.  
Harry desperately tried to keep from rutting against the settee, tongue flicking at Henry’s chest and hands grabbing the soft flesh at his hips.  
It was a great comfort to know that Henry was not so anxious anymore that his body kept burning all its sustenance on fear and nightmares. He was putting on a healthy amount of weight, muscles rounded and soft with the additional flesh.

Harry let off of Henry’s chest when his pants and moans pleaded for Harry to kiss him, God please just kisses.  
It was with nothing resembling grace that Harry clambered fully on the settee and settled against Henry’s stout, reliable frame, lips locking with familiarity.  
Henry tasted the salt of his own sweat on Harry’s tongue and rubbed his hard prick up against Harry’s hip.  
One of Harry’s hands cupped Henry’s right pectoral, the other trailed down his side, around his hip and firmly grabbed Henry’s arse.  
With a pleased grunt he pressed closer to Harry, Harry shifted and Henry’s prick slid along Harry’s, skin overheated and slick with the clear drippings they both wept continuously.  
Harry gasped into Henry’s mouth, hands flexing over Henry’s body. His thighs parted and Henry adjusted his angle, prick dragging along Harry’s tight, hairy bollocks and rubbing against the sensitive skin just behind them.

The spurt of wet against Henry’s belly was scalding and they both groaned, but a quick glance down showed no seed, but just more clear droplets hanging in the thick hair on Henry’s belly.  
Harry laughed breathlessly, hand on Henry’s arse shifting to the top of his thigh and pulling him closer.  
Sweat pooled between their chests, rubbing against their skin, hair on their chests tangling and curling with the heat.  
Henry thrust his hips forward and his prick fully slid into the heat between Harry’s thighs.  
They groaned.  
"Too dry?"  
Harry shivered, nails digging sharp points into the meat of Henry’s thigh.  
"A bit. Would you mind?"

Henry shook his head, hand dislodging from Harry’s shoulder and reaching for the jar on the window sill.  
They let go of each other for a moment, Henry dipping his fingers into the oil. The scent of coconut was thick and heavy, warm as the oil was from the sun.  
He smeared it over his prick, rutting mindlessly into his fist for as long as it took Harry to close the jar and put it back in the sun.  
It took a gentle hand on his forearm and a slick kiss to make him stop, mind almost blank with pleasure already.  
Henry grunted, hands scrabbling over Harry’s bum, his slender thighs, the flat of his stomach, fingers ghosting over the hot jut of his prick.  
"Your cockstand is so gorgeous, heart."  
Harry slapped Henry’s shoulder with an open palm, hips canting into the touch of his strong fingers.  
"Please, don’t be so crass, my dear."  
Henry laughed, nuzzling his whiskered cheek against the side of Harry’s neck, mouthing at his collar.  
"Sorry, you’re just beautiful."

He easily lifted Harry’s thigh and pulled him close, prick wetly slotting back between his legs, dragging slickly over Harry’s bollocks.  
"Ah, bugger," Henry groaned and Harry grabbed the back of his arm, breath leaving him in a long hiss.  
Henry let go of his leg and Harry interlocked his ankles, tightening his muscles around the hurried thrusts of Henry’s hot prick.  
Their mouths were too busy panting, but still lay close to each other, sharing breath and moans and the occasional lick of an over-eager tongue.  
Hands scrabbled, scrambled for leverage, finding it in Harry’s shirt, the moving planes of Henry’s broad back and the clench of his arse.

Henry cupped Harry’s arse in return, one still slick finger sliding over the crease, rubbing faintly over the furled hole.  
Harry gasped, head thrown back, and spilled as Henry slipped the tip of a finger inside, the head of his prick rubbing hotly against the soft skin behind Harry’s bollocks.  
Their mouths finally met fully again, Henry licking gasps and moans and groans from Harry’s slack tongue.  
His hips still thrust between Harry’s thighs, quicker now, hurried to chase his own pleasure.  
"Oh, darling," Harry breathed against Henry’s lips, meeting his eyes with a soft smile. His hands trembled faintly as they smoothed into Henry’s wild hair, fisting it close to the scalp.  
Henry grunted, eyes wide with pleasure and spilled his seed hotly between Harry’s thighs.  
His hands had rucked up Harry’s shirt, curled around his shoulders and he pulled Harry down against the twitch of his prick.  
It made Harry’s softening prick rub deliciously through the soiled hair on Henry’s belly and he groaned, loosing another weak spurt of seed.

Henry kissed him hungrily, tongue mapping the roof of his mouth.  
He thrust a few times more, hips shuddering and breast heaving with ragged breaths. Then he collapsed hotly against Harry, pulling him into a tight embrace.  
Harry sighed, untangled his tight legs and reveled in the heat of his dearest man.  
They would have to wash, save the settee from their seed, the oil and their sweat. They would have to drink something, Harry’s throat parched already from moans and pants and Henry always sweat more than him.

But for now it was good to lie together, slowly melting in the combined heat.

"I wish I had taken my shirt off. It’s crushed now," mumbled Harry, hands idly stroking Henry’s naked shoulders.  
"I wish you never wore a shirt, my heart."  
Harry laughed and kissed Henry’s dear face. Gave his arm an appreciative squeeze and grinned slily.  
"I wish you never wore a shirt, Henry. I so love your strength."  
A short pause and Henry flushed handsomely.  
"I so love you," Harry added calmly against his lips, kissing him chastely.  
The irony of a chaste kiss when he had the seed of another man drying between his thighs was not lost on him and he grinned again.  
Henry smiled, brushed his hair out of his eyes and kissed Harry warmly, modestly.  
"I love you."

They lay for a moment more, sweat mingling, hearts beating a warm rhythm together.

**Author's Note:**

> who doesn't like some tasteful intercrural sex.  
> leave a comment if you do.
> 
> AND THEY LEFT THE DOOR OPEN


End file.
